


First Bloom: A Side Story

by SunshineAndSnark (GoodApollo27)



Series: Drowning in Delphinium [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Awkwardness, Bad Puns, Brotherhood: Final Fantasy XV, Feelings Realization, First Aid, M/M, Mild Blood, Minor Injuries, Secret Crush, Side Story, can be read as a stand-alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 12:05:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15994853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoodApollo27/pseuds/SunshineAndSnark
Summary: Prompto has always been a little nervous Ignis. Or... a lot nervous. But when a painful incident calls the enigmatic Royal Advisor to his aid, Prompto learns that there's more to Ignis than the stoic mask he wears. And that there's more behind his own racing heart than just nerves.A side-story from Drowning in Delphinium in which Prompto develops a crush.Can be read as a stand-alone fic.





	First Bloom: A Side Story

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, readers! Yes, I am still hard at work in this... I guess it's a series with this addition? Anyway, I've been working on this one on and off for a while, now, and I hope that it tides you all over until I get the next chapter finished. Until then, please enjoy the awkward realization of one Prompto Argentum.

Prompto couldn't say why, but he had a bad feeling the moment he heard an engine rev behind him. Couldn’t he just have a  _ peaceful _ evening jog? He tried to ignore it, taking in a deep breath as he focused on his pace.

“Run, Niff, run!”

Prompto jerked his head up just in time to see the car zip past -  _ waaay _ too close, he might add. A soda cup, big and plastic like the kind from gas stations, flew from the window, landing just short of his legs in an explosion of dark liquid. He jumped back, the wind ruffling his sweaty hair, the loose fabric of his running shirt whipping around him. 

“Damn it! I’m not--  _ Aah _ !” 

One of his shoes caught on the curb as he sprung out of the way, his momentum sending him sprawling over the sidewalk. A pained hiss tore from him as he landed hard on his knee, scraping it over the rough concrete. 

“Ow… That’s gonna bruise  _ real _ bad…” he said with a sigh, biting his lip against the sharp flare of pain. “Aaaaaaand there’s blood.”

A shudder ran through him as he glanced down, drawing his knee up with a wince. He couldn’t see much of the damage past the steady flow of red, save for some ripped up skin at the edges. Nearby, a small smear on the concrete marked his fall.

“Just wanted to have a nice run…” he grumbled, planting his scraped hands against the sidewalk as he tried to get his legs underneath himself. “Just a nice run after school. but-- Oww! Shit!” He plopped back onto his rear, gritting his teeth. Even trying to stretch his leg out so he could sit was way more difficult than it should be. There was no way he was getting back home like this.

“Great. Guess I’m stuck,” he murmured, looking up at the sky. It wasn’t too late in the evening yet, the sky just starting to take on that beautiful orangish hue that signalled sunset. Even so, he knew his parents wouldn’t be at home.

Biting his lip, he reached for his pocket, his fingers curling as he hesitated for just a moment. Finally, he fished his phone out with a heavy sigh. There weren’t any other options.

 

>Prom: Hey Noct. U busy???

 

It didn’t take long for the Prince to reply. A good sign. But as Prompto read the reply, his heart sunk.

 

>Noct: At a meeting. Boring as hell. Save me

>Prom: Oh. That sucks. Actually… kinda need saving myself -_-’

>Noct: ...What happened? U ok?

>Prom: Hurt my knee out running. No biggie. I can hobble home

>Noct: Hell no. Texting Specs. He’ll give u a lift

 

Prompto paled, his phone nearly dropping from his fingers. 

_ Ignis _ . 

The last person he wanted to bother. He was probably busy. Guy was  _ always _ busy. And the last person Ignis probably wanted to see right now was him. 

They’d known each other for a while now, but… he wasn’t so sure how Ignis felt about him. Always watching him with that stoic expression, eyes unreadable behind his glasses. He probably thought he was a bad influence on Noct. A distraction from his princely duties. A dirty little commoner trying to get close to royalty.

He typed back a hasty reply.

 

>Prom: No need! Im fine! On my feet right now! Heading home! ;)

>Noct: Liar. I already texted him. He’ll be on his way

 

Prompto sighed, his hands dropping to his lap. Too late. He was doomed. And then…

 

>Prom: Wait. How does he know where I am?

>Noct: Dude. He can track your phone. Said he’ll be there in 15

>Prom: 0.0’

 

It shouldn't surprise him; Ignis had probably background checked him and all sorts of other things once he became friends with Noct. Well, nothing he could do now but wait for the worst, most awkward moment of his life. Heaving another sigh, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back, counting the passage of time in pulses of pain.

Noctis had said that he would be there in 15 minutes. 

Ignis made it in 10.

Prompto glanced over, hunching his shoulders as a sleek black car rolled into view, stopping just a few feet away. The engine died seconds later, followed by the sharp slam of a car door. Prompto jumped at the sound, scrunching down even further, his fingers curling against the pavement.

“Prompto!”

Ignis stepped into view, walking around the car in quick strides. Clothed in a crisp, perfectly fitted lavender dress shirt. Not a hair out of place, despite his rushed demeanor.

Prompto swallowed, his lips curling into an awkward smile as he lifted his hand, giving a limp wave.

“H-hey, Ignis,” he greeted, his eyes flicking up. 

No turning back now… If only he could melt into the pavement.

Ignis jogged over, green eyes flashing wide behind his glasses. He had a small first aid kit clutched in one hand, a water bottle in the other. Prompto watched as his gaze darted from the smear of blood on the sidewalk, to the slowly bleeding wound on his knee, and finally to the raw scrape on his still-raised palm.

He couldn’t help but give an awkward laugh, running his hand through sweaty hair as Ignis stared down at him. Finally, with a brisk nod and pursed lips, Ignis dropped to a crouch, bringing himself level with Prompto.

“You fell?” he murmured, his eyes flicking down to the first aid kit as he popped it open. The wide-eyed look had fallen into that familiar, unreadable expression that was, in Prompto’s opinion? Really unnerving. It was the same one that Ignis  _ always _ wore when he visited Noctis. Kind of cold. Kind of detached. The gaze of a quiet observer. 

Prompto licked his lips, giving another quiet laugh. Seemed like that gaze was always fixed on  _ him _ . Silently watching. Silently judging. His fingers twitched, but remained still. His wristband sat right where it was supposed to be, snug and secure. Fiddling would only draw attention.

“Y-yeah… Clumsy me, right?” he said in a rush, flashing a huge, forced smile, as if it were the funniest thing in the world. 

But Ignis wasn’t looking. Instead, his attention was focused on rummaging through the first aid kit, pulling out a clean cloth, a roll of gauze, and bandage. 

“Are you in pain?” he asked, his gaze trained on the water bottle as he unscrewed the cap.

“Um, not really?” Prompto said, the answer sounding more like a question.

Ignis’s gaze shot up to hold his for a moment, his eyes narrowing and in a heartbeat, Prompto was coughing up the truth.

“Ah… haha. I mean, yeah… Kind of. Actually... A lot.”

More rustling, and then two small packets were thrust toward him. Ibuprofen.

“Oh. Um. Thanks,” Prompto said with a chuckle, taking the pain meds, careful to keep his fingers from brushing Ignis’s. Like he would get disgusted, or something. And really, his hands  _ were _ kind of scraped and dirty.

Ignis kept his hand outstretched for a second longer than necessary, his eyes lingering on his empty palm. “You’re welcome,” he murmured, his attention sliding back to the water bottle.

Prompto bit his lip, swallowing the pills down dry. Ignis didn’t notice, did he? Oh, gods, please don’t let him have noticed and gotten offended. Even though it probably didn’t matter because he was  _ pretty _ sure Ignis already disliked him and it wasn’t like--

“We need to rinse your wound and get you sufficiently tidied before transport,” Ignis said, jerking Prompto’s attention back to present matters. “Forgive me. This may cause you some discomfort,” he murmured, holding up the water bottle.

“Wait. What? Transport? To where?” 

Ignis paused, looking up at the frantic questioning. Something flickered in his eyes for a moment. Amusement? But it slipped back into that mask of impenetrable calm before Prompto could be sure.

“Your wound doesn’t appear severe enough to warrant a trip to the hospital. Noctis’ apartment should suffice.  I would much rather clean you up in a more comfortable environment. One that affords us better lighting, as well.” Ignis gave a thoughtful hum, tilting his head. Prompto followed the soft swing of his bangs as they shifted just above his eyes. “You are up to date on all necessary vaccinations, I presume? Tetanus, in specific?”

Prompto nodded quickly, trying not to cringe. He never was never the biggest fan of needles. But then again, who was?

“Good. Now, prepare for a slight sting.”

Prompto winced a little, but held still as Ignis poured water over the scrape, flushing away dirt and blood in a steady stream. He tried to get a closer look, tried to see how deep it was, but he couldn't really tell. The sun was starting to set and the streetlights hadn’t flicked on yet.

He fidgeted his hands in his lap as Ignis fetched a good-sized gauze pad and placed it carefully over the wound, securing it in place with a few quick loops of bandage. Snug, but not too tight. It was kind of fascinating to watch. Sucked that every little brush against raw skin caused a flare of pain, but there was something almost relaxing in Ignis’s movements. Quick and confident, but… there was something gentle there, too. 

“All right. Make sure to apply pressure until we arrive at the apartment,” Ignis instructed, getting to his feet. “Are you able to walk on your own?” he asked, reaching out his hand to help Prompto to his feet.

Prompto hesitated for a moment, staring up as Ignis towered over him. He’d expected frustration or annoyance. Disappointment, or something. Not this kind, patient concern. In the times he had come over to hang out with Noct after school, he had never seen Ignis display this side of himself. Usually, he just kept to himself, save for the occasional reminder or scolding aimed at Noct. 

Prompto reached up, tentatively gripping Ignis's hands. Kind of cold, despite the warm Summer evening. As he pulled himself up, pain lanced through his leg and he gasped, stumbling. He would have ended up on the ground again, if it weren't for the arm looped around his waist, supporting a good amount of his weight. 

“Steady, now. Lean on me, if you need” Ignis murmured, his voice shedding that blank, clinical tone in favor of something warmer. Something comforting.

Prompto trembled against him, unsure of what to do with his hands, of where he should hold on. Half the time, it freaked him out enough just being in the same  _ room _ with Ignis. This? Pressed up against him? So much worse. Did Ignis even tolerate physical contact? He definitely hadn’t seen anything like that between him and Noct.

Gods, he didn't understand this guy. Ignis was even more of a mystery than he had thought.

Well, the faster they got this over with, the faster Ignis could fix him up and drop him off at home. Where he would likely sit and think about this, overanalyze every little action of his and reaction of Ignis’s until he drove himself nuts. Sounded like a night.

“Prompto? Do you need to sit back down?”

Prompto blinked, his head snapping up to meet Ignis’s gaze. His very concerned gaze. And… his eyes. Green. Bright green.

He shook his head, more to clear his distracted thoughts than by way of response. “Sorry. Zoned out a bit. But I’m fine! Totally fine! ...All things considered.”

Ignis watched him for a moment, as if he didn't know whether to believe him. Finally, he turned toward the car with a sigh, helping Prompto to hobble toward the passenger side and into the seat. 

“Should be a roughly 15 minute drive,” he announced, turning the key in the ignition. “Make sure to continue applying pressure,” he reminded.

“You got it.” Prompto pressed his lips together, pushing down as hard as he dared. And then a thought struck. “Wait,” he mumbled, looking over at Ignis as he began to drive. “Noct said 15 minutes, too. But… you got here in, like,  _ ten _ . Tops.”

Ignis pursed his lips, and-- No way. It  _ had _ to be the reflection of the sunset on his cheek. There was no way he was blushing. Ignis wasn’t capable of blushing. Was he? 

“I obeyed traffic laws, if that’s your concern,” he said with a sniff.

Prompto couldn't help but grin. That response told him all he needed to know. “You didn’t need to speed to get here… not for just me. It… it wasn’t that big a deal,” he said, poking at a loose corner of gauze peeking out from the bandage.

“Well, Noct was rather vague. I… may have jumped to conclusions when he mentioned that you were injured.” Ignis bit his lip, his gaze trained on the street ahead with a determined focus. 

“Oh. Uh, sorry. To worry you.”

“Not at all. It’s nearly a hobby at this point.”

Prompto tapped his foot on the floor, watching as the buildings and sidewalks slid past. A thick silence filled the car, and he found himself growing antsier by the minute. Ignis didn’t speak, just stared at the road ahead with a kind of unsettling focus. And… was his posture a little more--  _ tense _ than usual? Prompto stilled the tapping of his foot, sinking a few centimeters down in the car seat as he turned his gaze back to the window.

“Sorry I dragged you out here,” he blurted, hands clenching in his lap.

It took a moment for Ignis to respond, but Prompto couldn’t look over. He didn’t want to see the look on Ignis’s face. The inevitable annoyance.

“I wasn’t doing much of anything. Not of importance.” A soft hum of amusement. 

Prompto glanced over at the sound, and he might have been imagining it, but Ignis looked just a little more relaxed. Something in his face. Maybe he didn’t like the silence, either?

“But… you’re  _ always _ doing something important, right?” Prompto asked, trying to keep the conversation going. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing, talking with Ignis, but it beat the crushing weight of absolute silence.

To his surprise, Ignis chuckled. Just a small sound. He didn’t even open his mouth, or anything. But still, the warmth in it sent goosebumps shooting up Prompto’s arms.

“Not this evening, truth be told. I had planned to attend a meeting in Noct’s stead, but it wasn't necessary. He went on his own.” Ignis shook his head with a small grin. “Finally showing a trace of responsibility, it seems.”

Prompto grinned back, even as his heart continued to kick against his ribs. “Sorry I crashed, like your  _ only  _ night off, then.”

“Well, as I said: I wasn’t doing much of anything. Mere busy work.” Ignis tilted his head, his eyes leaving the road for just second to flick toward Prompto. “And I could hardly ignore a friend in need.”

Prompto’s eyes widened. Friend?  _ Friend? _ Wait. Ignis saw him as-- as a friend!?

“Ahaha…” he chuckled nervously, his thoughts scattered. Going on autopilot, now. “Yeah. ‘In need’ is right. I ‘kneed’ my way right into the pavement.” And apparently, autopilot meant terrible, terrible puns. His cheeks warmed and all he wanted was to shove open the door and leap out.

The car was completely silent.

Gods, please end him, now.

And then, a strangled little noise.

Prompto looked up, his embarrassment forgotten, for the moment. What the hell was that? Was that a snort!? Did… did Ignis just  _ snort _ !? Sure enough, when he glanced over, Ignis’s faint little grin had grown. Still small and restrained, but definitely there. Definitely a little more natural.

“Was there any ‘concrete’ reason?”

All Prompto could do was gape. “D-did you--? Did  _ you _ just make a pun?”

Ignis glanced sideways again, his grin growing sheepish, maybe even a little worried. “Was it that bad?”

Now it was Prompto’s turn to snort. “No, just… I don’t know, man!” he said, shaking his head as he dissolved into giggles, his nervousness evaporating into giddy amusement. Ignis Scientia, ultra proper Royal Advisor to the future King of Lucis liked puns? “I’m just kind of surprised,” he admitted with a shrug. “Just don’t seem the type.”

Ignis’s smile fell a little, but before Prompto could explain, he opened his mouth to speak.

“You’ll have to ‘humor’ me, I’m afraid.”

“You. Are. Killing me.”

“Well, I should hope not. Noct would be quite upset were I to fail in my rescue mission.”

Prompto snickered, raising a brow. “Rescue mission, huh?”

“Indeed.”

They fell into another silence, this one more comfortable than the first. Prompto looked out the window, watching the buildings grow higher, more clumped together until they were in the thick of the city. Every so often, he stole a glance at Ignis. The tension had vanished from his posture, and even though his smile had fallen back into that neutral mask, Prompto was pretty sure that he could see it hiding just at the corners of Ignis’s lips. Like sunlight peeking through the clouds.

“Here, at last. Are you capable of walking?”

He nearly jumped when those lips finally moved. Gods, how long had he been staring?

“Prompto?” Ignis looked over, frowning with open concern.

Prompto stared, struggling to remember just what Ignis had asked. “U-umm. Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” he sputtered, flashing his teeth in wide grin. “No need to worry! Totally got this!” And why in the name of Bahamut had he just given Ignis  _ finger guns? _

Ignis turned off the car, his eyes trained on Prompto for just a few seconds longer than he would have liked. And oh crap, his gaze could really lock you in. 

“If you’re certain,” Ignis said, turning to push open his door, the first aid kit dangling from his other hand. 

Prompto chewed his lip and pushed his own door open, his eyes swinging down to the ground. He wasn't so sure about this. But what was the alternative? Wasn’t like he could have Ignis carry him. With a deep breath, he extended his uninjured leg to the ground, pulling himself from the car with a wince. Stupid thing ached and he hadn’t even put any weight on it. Darned swelling. Next day or so was going to be rough.

Pain shot through his leg as he tried to rest it in the ground enough to hobble forward, his breath rushing out in a sharp hiss. He stumbled, catching himself against the car. 

“Ah, a lie?”

He jumped, his eyes snapping open to see Ignis standing in front of him. He didn't look very amused.

Prompto scratched a hand over the back of his head, twining his fingers through his hair. “Not… not really? I thought that I could handle it, you know? Guess I was wrong.”

Ignis sighed, gesturing down to his leg. “The swelling is likely to have increased, even in a short amount of time. Here. Allow me.”

He didn't know what he was expecting when Ignis suddenly stepped forward, bending at the knees. He definitely wasn’t expecting the world to whirl around him as he fell backwards. Wasn't expecting to be hoisted up, firm support under his shoulders and legs.

He was not--  _ was not _ expecting Ignis to  _ carry  _ him. 

“Wh-what are you doing!?” he gasped, pressing his arms against Ignis’s chest as if he could even hope to squirm away.

Ignis tilted his head, glancing down. “I’m afraid there are a few sets of stairs on the way inside. I would rather you didn’t aggravate your injury.”

Prompto swallowed, his eyes catching on sharp cheekbones before he finally met Ignis's eyes. And if the cheekbones didn’t do him him, then  _ those _ certainly would. Was Ignis aware that he had little darker green flecks in his eyes? Because he totally did. 

He let out a shaky exhale, trying to persuade his heart to calm the hell down. Ignis had been nothing but kind to him for the last half hour. Either he was having a really good day, or… Or… 

Or Ignis didn’t hate him.

You didn’t run out on a “rescue mission” for someone you hated. You didn’t carry someone that you hated up the stairs so they wouldn't hurt themselves.

So that meant...

Ignis didn’t hate him.

Prompto tried his best to stop squirming, but he couldn't quite ease his rigid posture. “A-are you sure? I’m not too heavy, am I? I-I mean, I know you’re taller - a  _ lot taller -  _ but… You really don't have to do this, okay!”

Ignis sighed, shaking his head as he walked up a few sets of stairs leading out of the parking garage and into the apartment complex. His fancy dress shoes clicked across the shiny tile floor in a steady rhythm.

Prompto sank down in his arms, squeezing his eyes shut so he didn’t have to see if there was anyone else in the entrance. Or in the elevator as they went up to Noctis's floor. Or in the hallway when Ignis  _ finally  _ put him back down. He had to lean on the guy while he unlocked the door, but that was better than being carried over the threshold like a freaking bride. 

Ignis guided him to the couch, settling him comfortably before striding off to collect the rest of his first aid necessities. Prompto sat there, chewing his lip as he watched Ignis flit around the apartment, collecting more and more as he went. Towels, the first aid kit, a bowl of warm water, tweezers. That easy, joking atmosphere they had created in the car was long gone, and Prompto’s old nervousness began to rear its head again. 

Finally, Ignis swept back into view, pulling up a footstool to sit on. His eyes flicked up to Prompto’s, bright and intense. But it wasn’t that observing kind of intense that Prompto always saw. This was more like a focused kind of intense. With a small flicker of concern. 

Ignis was concerned for him. Ignis didn’t hate him, and he was  _ concerned  _ for him.

“Feeling okay?” Ignis asked, leaning forward.

Prompto nodded. A little light-headed, but that had nothing to do with his leg. 

“Splendid. I’m going to remove your dressings and give the wound a more thorough cleaning,” Ignis informed, reaching for the bandages. “If it becomes too painful, or you wish to stop and take a break at any moment...”

“I’ll let ya know,” Prompto said with a nod. Honestly, he kind of just wanted to get this over with. He didn’t really like being the center of Ignis’s attention. Not with his palms turning all hot and sticky, his heart jackhammering against his ribs. Nope. The faster they got this done with, the better.

“Good,” Ignis said, giving a faint smile of encouragement. And boy, he didn’t think his heart could go any faster, but there it went. Breaking records.

Ignis worked quickly, his movements brisk and precise, confident. Prompto watched with fascination as he stripped away the old bandages, wiped away the dried blood, and then finally peered down at the wound.

“There seems to be some debris present,” Ignis murmured, furrowing his brow. “We’ll need to remove that, unfortunately.” 

“Oh. Uhh… that doesn't sound fun,” Prompto said, fidgeting with his fingers. 

“No, it won't be, I’m afraid.” Wielding the tweezers in one hand, Ignis held the other out to Prompto. “You may squeeze if it becomes uncomfortable.”

Prompto stared at Ignis’s hand, his mouth dropping open. Wait. Was Ignis-- was Ignis offering to hold his hand? Was this for real?

Ignis glanced up with a slight tilt of his head. “Or if you would rather not,” he said lightly, shrugging. 

Before he could lower his hand, Prompto lunged forward, wrapping his fingers around Ignis’ palm. And oh gods, why in the hell did he do that? Based on Ignis’s reserved interactions with Noct, he was pretty sure the guy didn’t like to be touched. And here he was, grabbing him with his dirty, sweaty hands. 

“S-sorry! I… I didn’t mean...”

Ignis shifted his hand so that it fit more comfortably in Prompto’s. “No need to fret. I offered, after all.” Raising the tweezers, he peered over his glasses at Prompto. “I’m going to begin, if you’re ready?”

Prompto could only stare, all of his nervous, noisy thoughts fleeing as those green eyes fixed on him, catching the overhead lights perfectly. At this angle, up this close, they seemed to glitter, polished and sharp like shards of sea glass.

“Uh-huh,” he mumbled. He hadn't even heard what Ignis asked. He couldn’t hear anything over the rushing in his ears. When Ignis looked down, it was like breaking a spell, like something thin and fragile between them had snapped.

A yelp tore from him, his fingers automatically tightening around Ignis's as a sharp sting shot through his knee.

“My apologies,” Ignis said, pulling the tweezers away. Pinched between: a tiny pebble. 

Prompto swallowed hard, looking away. Nothing like his own portable rock collection. He hummed quietly to himself as Ignis dropped the pebble into a small paper cup and returned to work. It was a little better when he removed the next one, knowing what was coming and all. A few more, and he could finally look, watching Ignis's swift, confident movements. 

“Wow. You’re really good at this, you know?”

“Hmm. Well, one must always be prepared. Even more so when growing up beside Gladio.” Ignis gave an amused huff, shaking his head. 

Prompto winced, unconsciously squeezing Ignis’s hand. “You should have been, like, a doctor or something.”

“Oh? And why is that?”

“Because your hands are cold and I’m kind of afraid around you.” The words fell out with little thought, and he could feel the blood drain from his cheeks the moment he said them. That-- that wasn't supposed to be out loud. Oh gods, why? He couldn't look, didn't want to see Ignis’s annoyed reaction.

Ignis paused, raising his head. For a moment, a  _ long _ moment, he sat silent and still. Then finally, he spoke. 

“You’re… afraid of me?” His voice, quiet and… was that hurt? Dismay?

“N-no! I mean… I know you don’t like me. You don’t have to hide it. It’s-- It’s cool. I know I’m kind of a handful and--”

“Prompto, I-- I don't dislike you. Quite the contrary.”

Prompto looked up, eyes wide, but Ignis had angled his face away, shielding it behind his hand as he adjusted his glasses.

“So… wait. You don’t hate me? You’re not lying? You know, to make me feel better?” Prompto asked, leaning forward. He winced, trying to ignore the quiet plink of another pebble falling into the paper cup.

Ignis finally turned his head, that neutral expression back in place. Save for the smallest hint of a smile. At least, Prompto was pretty sure that he saw it. Maybe.

“No, you are… rather interesting. I’ll admit to being a touch skeptical of your friendship with Noct. His Majesty rarely brings over company. And even so, I wouldn’t have expected anyone so… boisterous.” Ignis’s voice softened just a little, warmth seeping into his words. “You make him smile. And laugh. I must offer my thanks for that.”

Prompto gave a bashful chuckle, rubbing a hand over the back of his head. It felt like a little of the warmth from Ignis’s voice had seeped into his chest. Kinda weird. Just a few days ago, the guy had been capable of turning his blood cold with just a simple stare.

Ignis leaned back with a satisfied nod, setting the cup down on a small side table. 

“There we are. The worst is over. You did wonderfully.” Ignis’ gaze swung up to him for a split second, his smile still curling on the edge of those lips.  

Prompto swallowed hard, trying not to stare.

And failing. 

_ Really _ failing. 

It wasn’t like he was thinking anything  _ weird _ . They were just… kinda pretty. Soft. And perfectly curved. 

He fidgeted, finally tearing his gaze away to stare at the abandoned cup of pebbles. 

He barely noticed when Ignis announced that he was going to clean and bandage his leg. All he could do was listen to his voice. What had once sounded so stern and uptight, now seemed impossibly warm and melodic. Prompto sat and tried not to sneak glances at Ignis’ mouth as he spoke, at how his lips wrapped around every word, proper and precise.

He barely noticed much of anything over the racing of his heart, the jumble of his thoughts, until Ignis secured the last of his bandages in place. 

“Well, that about  _ wraps _ this up,” Ignis declared, closing the first aid kit with a crisp snap. 

The noise made Prompto jump, his head jerking up as he tried to grasp what Ignis had just said. A question? An order? No, nothing like that… Wait.

_ Wait _ .

Did he just?

“D-did you…? Did you seriously just make another pun?” Prompto said with a gasp.  

Ignis arched a brow, his gaze turned challenging. “I did. Is there an issue?”

Prompto shook his head, a nervous giggle slipping loose. “No? No! I mean, I just… I didn’t expect it. I didn’t think…”  _ That you had a sense of humor.  _ Not like he could actually say that. 

“You thought me above such things,” Ignis stated, his expression unreadable. But something amused danced in the bright green of his eyes. 

“No! Not really. Or… not too much!” Prompto waved his hands in front of him, trying to explain. So yeah, maybe he thought that Ignis was a little too uptight for things like joking. And laughing. Maybe he thought that their joking around in the car had been Ignis playing along with his own dumb pun, trying to be nice. But it wasn't like he could tell him that. And besides, now he knew he was obviously wrong.

But Ignis didn't appear to be listening. His eyes tracked Prompto's hands as they waved and fluttered about.

“Your palms are scraped as well,” he said, a quiet observation.

Prompto flipped his hands around, his palms hovering at eye level. Reddened and rubbed raw from his attempt at breaking his fall. Now that his attention was brought to them, they  _ did _ still hurt a little. 

“Oh. Yeah, guess they are a little messed up,” he said, brushing it off with a light chuckle. Not like they needed bandaged or anything. He could deal with a little pain. “But it’s fine. I already used up enough of your time and they don’t--"

“May I?” 

Ignis reached his own hand out, palm up in a careful request.

Prompto stared, his gaze flicking from the elegant curve of Ignis' hand to his own. All awkward fingers and bony knuckles. 

“Um…”

Ignis’ fingers twitched, that warm look in his eyes flickering back into something guarded. 

Prompto thrust his hands forward, both at once, shoving them clumsily into Ignis’. 

“S-sorry! I…” Prompto bit his lip, expecting annoyance or something. But if Ignis were annoyed at all, he didn’t show it. Instead, he grabbed an antiseptic cloth from the first aid kit, tearing open the small packet with his teeth. Gods help him...

“A little sting,” Ignis warned, turning Prompto's hands over, keeping them both rested in his. 

Prompto didn't notice the sting at all. All he felt was Ignis’ hand, impossibly soft. Like, _ unreal _ levels of soft. That, and the steady hint of warmth creeping through him, his cheeks flushing. Luckily, Ignis didn't notice, too absorbed in his task. Prompto watched, willing his heart to slow. 

Ignis’ brow furrowed in concentration, as if he were putting his all into the simple task of wiping Prompto's hands clean. But… he was so careful about it, his touch soft and even a little comforting. It lulled him.

Who would have thought? Ignis Scientia, the guy who had terrified him for weeks, was actually pretty nice. And  _ super _ gentle. 

And sweet. 

Attractive.

Prompto jolted up, bumping Ignis's hands as he wrapped the bandages over his sore palms.

“Prompto?”

“I’m fine! Just a little sting. Wasn't expecting it,” he said with a nervous chuckle. He took a deep breath, willing his heart to calm. definitely wasn’t expecting it, he thinks, looking at Ignis as he continued his work. 

Disappointment set in when Ignis finished up, releasing his hands with a satisfied nod. Strange, how they felt so out of place, without Ignis holding them.

“That should do it,” Ignis said, rising to his feet as he gathered the first aid supplies. He paused, shooting a stern look that nearly pinned Prompto to his seat. “So long as you avoid picking at the bandages.”

Prompto gave a sheepish smile, laying his hands flat on his lap. He  _ had _ been eyeing those perfectly wrapped edges. It didn’t help that his thoughts were kind of a mess, his heart kind of all over the place. He was nervous again. But not the same terrified-nervous as when Ignis had come to pick him up. 

This was another type. Like when he saw someone at school and really wanted to talk to them. When he wanted to get to know them better because they seemed nice and they looked really cute but he kept his mouth shut because who was he kidding, they were  _ always _ out of his league.

He swallowed hard, looking up at Ignis. Yeah, he knew that kind of nervous pretty well. And, oh boy, was Ignis setting it off.

Which meant…

Gods, help him.

With an awkward laugh, he realized that he was still staring and should really say something. “No picking at the bandages,” he stated, running his hand through his hair, stiff with sweat and sticking to his gauze-wrapped palm. “Doctor's orders?” 

Ignis arched a brow, the corner of his mouth drawing up with it. “Indeed. Along with the suggestion that you rest here until the swelling subsides. I shall transport you home when I finish my task,” he informed, walking toward the small kitchen. His little domain, tucked just behind the living room. “I’ll fetch you some ice and the television remote, for the time being.”

Prompto chewed his lip, watching as Ignis rummaged around. A task. So he  _ had  _ interrupted something important.

Several seconds later, Ignis returned with a small plastic bag of ice, the bundle wrapped secure in a clean wash cloth. 

“Here you go. Make yourself at home and please do alert me if you require anything.” He placed the remote near Prompto and strode back into the kitchen, brisk and back to his usual “Ignis Mode”. A little more familiar, but… he kind of liked that tender concern and patience of just a few minutes ago. Oh well. It was nice while it lasted.

Prompto glanced at the remote, sitting just within reach on the arm of the sofa, but made no move to grab it. He wasn’t really feeling the whole tv thing, today. Too distracted. Instead, he twisted in his seat, watching as Ignis resumed whatever he had been doing in the kitchen before being interrupted for a “rescue mission”. 

Various ingredients sat in organized groups on the counter, accompanied by neat rows of gleaming metal mixing bowls and bold-colored plastic measuring cups. 

“Cooking something…?” Prompto asked. More to fill the silence than anything. It was obvious that the guy was cooking. Or… taking kitchen inventory? Hopefully, he wouldn't be bothered by his curiosity.

If Ignis felt bothered, he didn't show it. “Baking, to be exact,” he corrected, holding up a mixing spoon in one hand, the other flipping open a small black leather journal.

“Oh.” Prompto swept his gaze along the assortment of ingredients, trying to guess what he was making. Flour, some berries… Was that a sweet potato? Huh. Definitely not your run-of-the-mill chocolate chip cookies. He traced his thumb along the edge of one of his bandages, reminding himself to stop before Ignis noticed and scolded him. 

“So...whatcha makin?” he asked, a little quieter than the previous question.

Ignis glanced up from the notebook, expression unreadable. “Just a little experiment of mine. A recipe-in-progress built on Noct’s vague descriptions of a Tenebraean dessert.”

Prompto found himself grinning at Iggy’s distinct way of saying “recipe”. Kind of silly. Kind of… kind of cute.

“You know, I think Noct brought a batch of those to class, once,” Prompto commented, licking his lips at the memory of the sweet, flaky pastry. “Man, those were good…” 

Ignis smiled, but the small curve of lips was nothing compared to the way his eyes lit up at Prompto's wistful sigh. “My thanks. Now, hopefully I can recreate it to Noct’s tastes. 

Prompto snorted. “ _ That’s _ an epic challenge.”

“Truly,” Ignis murmured with a put-upon sigh. He raised his eyes once more, giving Prompto a thoughtful look. “Perhaps you could taste test for me, when they finish baking? Payment for my services.”

Prompto laughed, blinking at Ignis with disbelief. “Umm, I don’t think that’s how it works? I should be feeding  _ you. _ ”

Ignis cocked his head, his face still neutral. “You would be helping quite a bit as a valuable source of opinion.”

Prompto shook his head with chuckle. A valuable source of opinion? Did Ignis really hold his taste in that high of regard? “If you insist. Freshly made food fit for royalty? How could I refuse?”

Ignis smiled, turning back to his work. “My thanks.”

The apartment sat in silence, save for the sounds of Ignis at work. The clink of spoons against bowls, the rustle of paper bags.

Prompto sat on the couch, leg propped up on a cushion, shuffling through pictures on his phone. He didn't even see them as he scrolled past. Too distracted by the sounds of Ignis moving through the kitchen. Too distracted by his own mental images of that strangely handsome face. He let his phone plop to his chest with a quiet sigh.

“Umm… Is it-- would it be okay if I… you know, watched? While you bake?” He bit his lip, eyes swinging downward. “I kind of... like that kind of stuff. Used to watch Food Network all the time. Especially when I was having a bad day. Something relaxing about people cooking.” He shrugged, waiting for Ignis to decline. The kitchen was his own special spot, after all.

“I would very much enjoy the company.”

Prompto jerked upright, eyes growing wide at Ignis’ response, at the warmth in his voice. “I-if you’re sure… Don’t feel like you have to.”

“I don’t,” he said simply, leaving no room for argument. Ignis abandoned his post at the counter, walking over to the couch. 

Prompto swallowed. When the hell had he donned an apron? And did he realize just how nice it looked, hanging snug around those narrow hips, wrapped across that broad chest? He forced his eyes upward as Ignis helped him to his feet, assisted him in hobbling over to where he could watch from the kitchen table.

“Thanks, Ignis,” he said with a grin, keeping his eyes on the dark-stained wood grain of the table until his heart stopped fluttering.

“You’re quite welcome.”

Prompto watched as Ignis mixed the various ingredients, mesmerized by the movements of his hands. Guy looked like he’d have little issue doing all of this blindfolded. Prompto leaned his elbow on the table, propping up his chin. Yeah, this was ten times better than anything on tv.

“Sooo... desserts aren’t the only thing that’s sweet in here, am I right?”

Ignis paused, about to reach for another mixing bowl, his brow furrowed as he cocked his head at Prompto. “Are you… referring to yourself?”

Oh gods, did he just flirt? With a  _ pun _ ? With  _ Ignis? _

“U-um. N-nevermind.” Prompto ducked his head, hiding the flush blooming over his cheeks. “That was a bad one.”

“Hmm. I’ve heard worse,” Ignis replied lightly, retrieving his mixing bowl. No further reaction to the awkward pun, even as Prompto squirmed in his seat.

He fell quiet, letting Ignis work. Probably better that way, just watching. He was too lost in his own thoughts to make any conversation without blurting something stupid or embarrassing.

Somehow, in the course of a single evening...

No. 

He couldn't like Ignis. Nope nope nope. There were so many reasons why he couldn't go down that road. Hell, he shouldn't even glance at the street sign. Ignis was important and put together and perpetually busy. And himself? He was just a commoner who’d somehow made friends with royalty. 

But… he couldn’t deny it, even as he tried. 

The warmth curling against his ribs when he saw the bright green of Ignis’ eyes soften, when he heard that warm, rich accent wrapping around elegant words. 

The small, secret smiles that curved just at the corners of his lips, so easy to miss if you weren’t watching closely.  

How those simple touches as he bandaged his hands had felt like heaven, how they left an empty ache behind that had nothing to do with superficial scratches.

He knew. Damn it, he knew. There was no point denying it.

He was totally screwed.

He had a crush on Ignis.


End file.
